Regicide attempt in Acre
by Amaranthe Athenais
Summary: The story begins in S2E13, with the regicide attempt on King Richard's life in the Holy Land. Robin and the gang are fighting with Sheriff Vasey, Guy of Gisborne, and the Saracen assassins. The battle in Imuiz ends differently. However, the Black Knights gathered an army near Acre, but the outlaws don't know about it yet. There are detailed, rich descriptions of fights.
1. Chapter 1

_This is another Robin Hood story. It will be a short one – no more than five-six chapters. The story begins in S2E13 with the new regicide attempt on King Richard's life. King Richard, Robin Hood, and his gang are fighting with Sheriff Vaisey, Guy of Gisborne, and numerous Saracen assassins. In this alternative universe, the battle in Imuiz ends differently than in the show._

_Here I am taking the canon pairing, shipping Robin and Marian._

_Any reviews are welcome, both the good and the bad. Constructive criticism is always welcome._

_Undoubtedly, I don't own any characters and the show. In addition, some heroes are to be introduced into the story by myself._

_Hope you will enjoy the story._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**The fight in Imuiz**

King Richard, Carter, Robin Hood, and his infamous gang of outlaws were in Imuiz, a ghost town that was taken and destroyed by the Crusaders several years ago. It was almost absolutely quiet everywhere, and the stillness was breached only by shouts and screams as the outlaws were fighting with the Sheriff of Nottingham and the hired Saracen assassins.

As Robin and others walked through the town, they were plagued by flies that buzzed and crawled over our faces, and they slapped and brushed at them away. Peter Vaisey, the Sheriff of Nottingham, and Guy of Gisborne, the Sherriff's right hand and a partner in their second regicide attempt on King Richard's life, also wandered in the huge labyrinth of sandstone buildings.

Everybody was oppressed by the unbearable, blistering heat from the unforgiving sun. The air was thick and heavy, and it was difficult to breathe. And it was far from being unusual in the Holy Land, the land of controversies and contradictions. For Christians, the place was holy due to its association with the birth, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. For many years, the Crusaders fiercely fought to reclaim the land from the infidels, enduring horrors and atrocities of the war.

For many people, the Holy Land was not as holy as inexperienced pilgrims tended to think. For Robin and Much, the Holy Land was the hate-ridden land where soldiers butchered each other in the name of God, the place with its crushing heat and choking dust, full of demon scorpions and giant hairy spiders. Robin didn't see anything holy there and wasn't happy to be under the sky of Acre again.

Djaq was happy to finally be at home, but she was certainly disappointed with King Richard who had sentenced all of them to death just in the same morning, thus betraying his most loyal subject – Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntington and the former Captain of the King's Private Guard. Little John and Allan found the place detestable because of the sharp changes in air temperature – heat in the daytime and cold in the nighttime. Nobody felt comfortable.

After the gang had split up in the town, Robin and Much remained together, working as a team, like it was during their five years in the Holy Land: the former manservant was with his master, protecting his back and warning him about any source of potential danger. They looked around, weary of heat and worry. They both were anxious that Vaisey and Gisborne had hidden themselves in the town, making the outlaws haunt them.

"We are here for the second time, but I feel as though we had never left. I hate being in this terrible place. I hate this vile climate. The heat is unendurable. The dust chokes me, and the flies nauseate me. The mosquitoes and the tarantulas irritate me," Much complained, wiping his brow from sweat.

"Much, concentrate on the battle."

"We are not surrounded now."

Robin smiled sardonically. "This place is really unbearable." His face turned serious. "Much, be attentive anyway. We will talk later."

"Master, where is King Richard?"

Robin stopped and stared at Much. The sunlight seemed to have softened his hard, tired face into unwanted thoughtfulness. "The King went after the Sheriff. He was very resolute to chase after Vaisey."

"It is dangerous!"

The leader of the outlaws gave a nod. "He always rules from the front rows."

Much's eyes scanned the alley where they stood. "I don't like it."

Robin's eyes were growing exasperated in his weather-beaten face. "It is a trap. I fear there are many Saracen mercenaries hiding here." His voice was low, hit tone grave.

"We must find the King. He should leave this place."

"Let's do this," Robin agreed.

Will, Djaq, Little John, and Allan struggled with several Saracens not very far from Robin and Much. Djaq was disgusted with the necessity to kill her countrymen; her only consolation was that she couldn't avoid it because they wanted to kill her and her friends. Allan, Little John, and Will were also less than pleased with the battle because the Saracens fought differently as compared to the English guards they were so skillful to handle at. They sighed with relief as they killed all the men.

"It is not being funny, but I find the Saracens to be very dangerous enemies," Allan complained.

"They fight differently. This I don't like," Little John commented.

"We will get used soon," Will said.

"Be very attentive. Move fast and attack. Pace and adroitness are very important," Djaq advised.

"Oh, warfare is such a gamble. I just don't want to be killed in this horrible place," Allan pointed out.

"When I lived in the Holy Land, I often saw how six or seven English knights were wiped out by just one assassin," Djaq said, trying to speak lightly. "Be very careful," she repeated her recommendation. What we had now is not the worst of the fighting with the Saracens." She smiled with a tense, sour smile. "That is to say that we haven't been invited yet to join in the bloodiest assaults. King Richard's soldiers are a formidable enemy for Saladin, and there were many bloody battles here."

"How is it possible to fight for five years in this hell?" Little John grumbled.

Allan laughed. "Funny it is, but I would go mad if I spent five years here."

Will gave half a shrug. "Robin and Much spent many years here."

"Although King Richard's troops were emaciated from fever at the beginning of the Crusade, the soldiers got accustomed to the new conditions. Now many of them can withstand the heat rather well," Djaq explained and smiled. "For us, the Saracens, the heat is natural."

They heard a great shout nearby, each Saracen man bellowing his war cry. It was shocking to hear such a tumult in the stillness. It was the enemies' intention to cause shock and terror in the outlaws. The rather long line of dark-skinned men went forward, approaching the gang at a speed of velocity with the purpose to rip and slice into the outlaws.

Djaq and Will fought three soldiers next to each other. Will fought with his sword and his axe in both hands, quickly slicing life from their enemies. Djaq decapitated one assassin and sliced the throat of the second attacker. A dark figure came to Allan's left, and he smashed into its head with his sword. Then Allan turned around and buried his sword into the heart of another assassin. Meanwhile, Little John killed two Saracens, and smiled in delight.

John was suddenly surrounded by three more assassins. He plunged his sword into the chest of one man and ambushed the second man, but failed to notice the one behind his back. The Saracen speared John through the body with his javelin. The blade deeply stuck in John's ribs, and he almost lost his balance as he felt dizziness overcoming him. John managed to continue fighting and killed the man who had injured him, but he couldn't go on as his strength was fading away, together with the blood he was losing. Little John dropped his sword and, slipping on his broad bottom on the sand, was swaying slightly and panting heavily. Then his body dropped on the desert sand.

Soon the assassins were dead. Instead of triumph and inspiration to continue the battle, the gang was devastated as they had to deal with an unpleasant surprise – they discovered Little John who lay unconscious and gravely injured on the ground.

They stood rooted near his body and watched him in painful daze. All that could be heard were the outlaws' ragged breathing and a few muffled shouts and screams away in the direction where Robin and Much had gone. In seconds, they heard the war screams and had to fight for their lives again.

§§§

Robin and Much saw six Saracens galloping their scrubby little horses straight in their direction. They pulled back their bow cords, nocked their arrows and prepared to darken the sky with their shafts. Robin was much quicker and shot an arrow, then another one, and another one; a storm of Robin's arrows passed through the hot air. Several Saracens slipped from their horses. Much also released several arrows. A few crossbows answered an arrow storm with a return fire of wicked black quarrels. Robin smiled as he saw a trail of bodies near the frightened horses.

God forgive him, but Robin admitted that he still enjoyed the battle. He wasn't hungry for bloodshed, but he enjoyed the excessive amount of adrenaline the fight provided him with. Perhaps, it was the Holy Land that temporarily brought Robin's undercurrent darkness to the surface. He liked feeling the satisfaction that another enemy had stopped being a threat for his King.

"Where is Carter?" Robin questioned.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him, Master. I think he is on the other side of the town."

"It is a good luck that we made Marian to stay inside that house. Let's hope that she will keep her word and stay there during the battle," Robin added.

They couldn't see how Vaisey attacked Carter inside one of the buildings where Carter went in search of the assassins. Carter felt the Saracen sword cut into his right side and gasped for air, then fell to the ground. The Sheriff laughed, pleased that he had eventually killed Carter, whom he considered a traitor after Carter hadn't killed and developed an alliance with the infamous outlaw from Sherwood. Vaisey left his victim bleeding on the floor, but he didn't see that the Crusader's eyes flung wide-open after the Sheriff's departure.

Clutching his side with his right hand, Carter almost lost his breath as he put all his strength to rise from the floor. He was wounded, but alive. The cut appeared not to be too deep because he had managed to lean his body down, which was enough to prevent the Crusader from having been completely run through by Vaisey's sword. Carter looked at his wound and realized that he had to stop bleeding; he tore his white tunic and began bandaging his wound.

As they turned around the corner, Robin and Much lost each other among the narrow passages between the buildings. Robin climbed atop of the building to have a greater view of the surroundings and, looking down on the road, noticed a tall handsome man, well-muscled and strong, his complexion fair and slightly sunburned. The man rode on his white stallion and passed the roof of the building where Robin had positioned himself.

The man was the King of England – King Richard I the Lionheart, Coeur de Lion. His red-gold hair glinted and sparkled in the brisk sunlight; the direct, unflinching gaze of his blue eyes was focused on the road ahead. Robin smiled at his sovereign, feeling the sacred aura of kingly power that radiated from him. The leader of the outlaws loved the King as much as it had always been, before the King's unexpected misjudgment of Robin's involvement into the assassination plot. The old affection had felt for the King didn't fade away.

"Sire, it is a trap. You should leave this place," Robin said in Norman-French, the King's native tongue. King Richard knew common English, but he still preferred to speak French over English as his English was heavily accented.

Richard raised his head and discovered an assassin behind Robin. It was a mercenary thug, Karim who posed as Saladin during the meeting with the King. His sword slithered from the sheath, and he threw it into the Saracen, saving Robin's life.

"Careful, Robin," Richard warned, also in French.

"Thank you." Robin managed a smile as he saw the fallen Saracen.

The King simply nodded.

"Wait, sire!" Robin called. "I will ask Much to accompany you to the camp."

"Robin, you need him here. He will stay with you. I will be alright," Richard replied.

"Milord, you need protection. Much will be here in a minute and will accompany you…"

"I will be alright, Robin. Be careful here."

"Sire, please…" Robin was going to be very persistent.

Richard interrupted him and waved for silence. "Robin," the King addressed to the man. "At times, I don't know what it is – your disobedience or your persistence." His voice was friendly, his face bright. He smirked. "I know you fear nothing, not even the wrath of Kings." He smiled imperturbably. "Good luck, Robin." Then he rode away.

Robin shook his head and sighed as he looked at the King's retreating back.

Robin climbed down from the roof and then was attacked by two more Saracens. He fired an arrow at one of them with his usual deadly accuracy, and Nasir, who masqueraded as Saladin's messenger and convinced King Richard that Saladin wanted peace, fell dead.

Robin was thrown to the ground by another assassin; he slammed a fist into his face and lunged at him with his Saracen curved sword – a scimitar, which was sweaty in his hand, distracting him from the fight. As quick as the wind, Much helped Robin and buried his sword into the Saracen's back.

Robin and Much were again attacked by several assassins. Robin plunged his scimitar into his enemy's belly, turned around, and skewered the second one through the gullet on the point of his curved sword. Another assassin attacked Robin, and he quickly slashed the Saracen's throat with one expert blow.

Unexpectedly, the familiar Crusader emerged from the corner of the building and threw himself upon Robin. He was Sir James of Lambton, the Earl of Durham, the current Head of the King's Private Guard and the traitor, who was bought by Vaisey and was the Sheriff's spy in the King's camp in Acre.

James stabbed at Robin, who scrambled away just in time, and, screaming a high ululating challenge, engaged himself into the battle with the vile Captain. The irony was that it was the fight between the former and the current Head of the King's Guard. James tried to disarm the leader of the outlaws with fierce blows, but Robin masterfully parried all his lunges. They danced around one another, the clash of steel against steel resonated in the hot, brisk air.

Robin stepped back from James and froze for a split of second. James used the moment to swing his blade at Robin's head. Robin turned from the blow, and his sword lanced out and took James in his muscular side. James fell to his knees. Unfortunately, Robin suddenly felt a little dizzy from the sun and staggered backwards.

James caught Robin at that moment of weakness. Despite his injury, the traitor scrambled to his feet and hissed a war cry, then threw himself at Robin and tried to strangle him. His back on the ground, Robin attempted to find his sword, but it slipped from his hand as James attacked him. Robin had to defend himself in an unarmed fight with James.

"Now you will finally die, Locksley," James hissed, a maddening smile on his bruised lips.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Robin said, trying to throw James from his body.

Much finished off another man and noticed Robin on the ground. He immediately rushed forward, to James, from the back, and lunged at the traitor, beheading him with one strike of his blade.

"Thank you, Much," Robin said and drew a deep breath.

"Welcome." Much gave his hand to his friend, and Robin stood up. He looked at Robin with concern. Despite being under the sun, Robin's face was pallid, cold sweat on his brow. "Are you alright, Master?"

"Yes, I am," Robin said abruptly. He shook his head and took several deep breaths. He was tired, but they had to fight to save the King and England. Then he wiped his forehead from sweat.

"A traitor deserves a traitor's death," Much declared, his face screwed up in disgust as he looked at what remained from James' body.

Robin smirked. "Yes, Much."

"What is it with you, Master?"

Robin frowned. "I am very worried. I shouldn't have let the King leave alone. I should have disregarded his wishes. I should have sent you with him. It was my mistake."

Robin was not in a pleasant mood. He was not only tired, but also very angry at himself. He had never allowed King Richard to travel unprotected when he had led the King's Private Guard. Today he made a mistake as he sent the King alone to flee Imuiz, which could have been fatal for his sovereign. He shouldn't have listened to Richard. Maybe he had lost some vigilance, stubbornness, or persistence, as the King called it, on the back of their recent misadventures in the desert. Whatever the true reason behind Robin's lack of precautionary measure for the King's safety was, Robin couldn't justify himself.

Much shrugged. "We must find Gisborne and the Sheriff."

Robin leaned down and took his bow and his sword in his arms. He wiped his sword with the tunic of the fallen Crusader and straightened his spine. "Let's go, Much," he said calmly. He tightened up his sword belt and strode forward.

§§§

During all that time, Marian was inside the dilapidated building, where Robin had whisked her for her own safety. Looking at the small knife in her hand, she regretted that she didn't have a sword with her. She wasn't particularly happy with Robin's decision to isolate her from the battle, but she didn't object. She tried to concentrate on the shouts and the distant clash of metal outside.

Marian was exhausted from the constant disquietude and the terrible heat she wasn't accustomed to. She had to live through several months of time-consuming and stressful trip to the Holy Land. These months were the most difficult in her life. She was again separated from Robin and thought that he was dead. Her heart was bleeding, and she mourned for her presumably deceased fiancé, but she still had some hope and faith that Robin had probably been alive and would find the way to save King Richard, England, and herself.

Marian dreaded their arrival to the place that took Robin from her for five long years and that could easily become a grave for her or for both of them, if Robin had survived the Sherriff's trap and managed to come in Acre. Now she finally was in the legendary land of Christ, and Robin was alive. She was happy that they had time to say their vows when they were tied to the poles in the desert.

As Marian looked into the small window and stared at the expanse of sand in distance, she wondered how men could have fought in this despondent land for years, silently questioning whether they had lost their minds to the spell of enigmatic sands that surrounded them day and night there. Her mind drifted back to Robin and hers most important concern – the King and Robin's safety. She prayed that Carter, Robin, and his gang would be able to capture the traitors and save the King and England.

Marian still hoped that Guy of Gisborne would come to his senses and wouldn't commit treason. There was something good in the man when he wasn't under the Sheriff's influence. She didn't want Guy to be killed in the battle or be executed for treason later if he was captured. She didn't agree with Robin that Gisborne was only a murderer of many innocent people who couldn't change.

After he had stabbed Carter, Sheriff Vaisey made his way on the road, pressing himself to the walls of the buildings. Suddenly, the Sheriff laughed aloud as he saw the back of the English monarch who was about to flee on his horse. Robin was right that he was worried for the King.

"Long live King Richard!" Vaisey proclaimed in a mocking tone. Then he quickly drew an arrow across his Saracen curved bow, and a wide smile curved his lips. "No!" he sneered, aiming right at the King's heart from the back.

At the same time, on the route for his escape, King Richard knew nothing about the danger. As his horse reached a narrow, sandy alley, the King screamed in agony as the Sheriff's arrow struck him. He felt a sharp pain somewhere in the area of his right shoulder. Unable to hold onto his horse, the Lionheart slipped from the saddle without a word and fell on the nearby deserted square, his hot blood spilling thickly on the desert sand. He felt dizzy, his head spinning, as though something heavy smashed into the back of his skull. He closed his eyes and moaned in pain.

Gisborne heard somebody's loud scream. He hoped that the Saracen assassins had already finished off Hood and his gang. He walked through the narrow passage in the hut and went outside. He blinked in the sun and put a hand on his forehead, brushing away the beads of sweat and several dead insects. He wondered who screamed and quickened his footsteps, heading in the direction of the courtyard. He guessed where Marian was, hoping that she would hide from the assassins whom he persuaded to spare her life despite Vaisey's protests.

Like Gisborne, Marian also heard a scream. She was closer to the empty square where the King fell. With determination and hammering heart, she left her temporary shelter and went outside. The deserted courtyard stared at her. Everything was of the same sickly color – only yellow-tinted sand and white buildings around the square. The landscape was morbidly exasperating.

Marian ran her eyes across the surroundings. Her heart missed a beat and sank in her throat as her gaze fixed at the injured warrior, an arrow protruding from his back. Her heart hammered harder and harder, bursting out of her basque as she realized who the warrior was – the King of England himself.

Without any second thoughts, Marian rushed to the wounded monarch. Maybe there was a reason that she was in the Holy Land. Maybe she was destined to save the King of England. Robin saved the King's life many times during the war, and she admitted that she craved to do the same. There was a sort of competition between them after Robin had uncovered that she had been the Nightwatchman. Her mission was to save the King and England, and she firmly believed in that.

Marian noticed that Richard moved his left arm, a sign that he was alive. She sighed with relief, but then stood rooted, her heart hammering harder and harder. She didn't have time to approach the King as Guy of Gisborne appeared in the courtyard. She ran forward and stood in front of Gisborne.

"Guy!" Marian called aloud. "Guy!" she screamed again.

Gisborne frowned at the sight of Marian. He was fascinated with her beauty; in her white dress, contrasted by her dark brown hair, she looked like at angel among death. He also was irritated that she was there. He didn't want her to see how he would end up the King's life. He had to remove her from his way, even if he couldn't remove her from the square. He had a task to fulfill – to kill King Richard.

Marian held her hands defensively, blocking his access to the King. "Stop!" she yelled as she almost reached him. She gave him an icy glare, full of condemnation. "It is over, Guy!"

"Get out of the way!" Gisborne shouted. The King's death was all that mattered: it would give him great power and status, and he would finally have Marian as his wife. He only had to kill the monarch.

Marian stepped backwards, towards King Richard. Her hands were shaking, but she knew that she had to do everything to guard the King until Robin and others arrived. She was also angry at Guy who wanted to proceed to regicide despite all her attempts to revive some goodness in his black heart.

She looked into Gisborne's eyes. "All this time I have been fighting for England," she announced passionately. "Do you think I am going to let you kill England?" Her voice was firm.

She didn't move when the would-be murderer took two steps forward and raised the broadsword, lashing him at her.

Gisborne felt rage slash through his veins. He slashed the blade through the hot air and flashed a furious glance. "Marian, get out of the way!" he bellowed.

At that moment, Marian remembered that she forgot the dagger – her only weapon – inside the house. A feeling of dread swept over her, but her face had no sign of her emotional tumult. She looked fearless. She drew a deep breath and boldly looked at Gisborne, her eyes challenging him for a verbal duel. She no longer was afraid when she saw the sword's arc so close to herself. She was weaponless and had to struggle with him with words. Still, she swore to fight and save England and King Richard, sacrificing her own life for the country and Robin Hood's cause if necessary. The fight flared in her blood, her rebellious spirit causing her to continue guarding the King.

"Guy, don't commit treason! Stop! Stop!" she begged.

"Marian, get out of the way!"

"If you want to kill the King, you will have to kill me first!" She looked at him with a hard gaze.

Startled, he shook his head in denial. "No, no."

"I won't let you kill the King and England!" she persisted.

"Marian, Richard is not England. He is the weak King. He abandoned his own people for the fight in this godforsaken land. He doesn't care for England and his people. Your judgment is clouded. England will be better without Richard."

"England will be worse with Prince John on the throne than with King Richard!"

"Quiet!" Gisborne's voice boomed. "Stop extolling the virtues of Richard! You don't understand!"

"I understand, Guy, much more than you do. Prince John may rule only in complete tyranny, and many people will suffer. King Richard is the rightful King of England, and he is a fairer ruler than his brother could ever be," Marian countered. "I won't let you kill the King."

"You speak like… like…" He stumbled with words as a thought struck him, but he immediately pushed it aside. He just had to take her out of the way and end the lion's life.

Marian was silent. She waited for him to talk and guessed whether he would bring Robin into their conversation. Maybe it would be even better, she thought.

Gisborne stepped forward. "We are going to get out of this. I am going to do this thing, and then I will have power beyond measure." He still held his sword up. He made another step forward. "I will do this and then we will be together," he promised.

A soft laugh escaped her lips. "Together? This will never happen. This is impossible."

Marian kept her hands up in the air, blocking his path. Yet, she had to back further toward the King.

Gisborne shook his head. He was stunned. "What?"

"I would rather die than be with you, Guy of Gisborne," Marian stated, a smile hovering over her lips.

She longed to look around and search with her eyes where Robin, Carter, and the gang were, but she couldn't. She didn't want to show the man in black that she was scared of him and only wished her friends to come and rescue her and the King of England.

Her smile caught Gisborne off-guard. "No! No!" he muttered.

Marian gave a nod, her smile grew wider.

She realized that she no longer could resist Gisborne with her talk about tyranny and the King. She must have done something more effective. She quickly understood what she needed to defeat Gisborne with words – she just had to hurt his feelings by telling him the truth about her relationship with Robin. The truth would be so bitter and so tragic that Gisborne would be greatly hurt and emotionally devastated, which would buy the King's life more time.

Marian stared into Guy's eyes. Her blue eyes were deep and expressive, her gaze stormy, her full lips curved in a smile. "I am going to marry Robin Hood." She held his gaze and smiled again. Her eyes sparkled with imps of joy as she had finally told him the truth. "I love Robin Hood," she reiterated.

Gisborne's eyes turned wide. "No!"

She shivered as she saw confusion, hurt, and anger in Gisborne's steel blue eyes. "I love Robin Hood. I love him and only him. You will never have me."

Her last words were spoken with so much passion that Guy inwardly shuddered.

Gisborne felt as though the blade had penetrated his heart and twisted in his flesh. He gasped for air and drew several deep breaths. He didn't want to believe her, but the words, like a judge's verdict, coursed through his mind. Looking at her, he knew that she said the truth.

Guy suddenly had an impulse to strike her with his broadsword for all her lies and deception, and he made a small step forward. She was only inches away from him.

But Gisborne stood rooted as he heard the English voice behind his back. He knew that voice, but it was not Vaisey or Robin Hood.

§§§

"Well, well, well, Sir Guy of Gisborne," the voice spoke. "I see that I came here on time."

Relief washed over Marian. Carter stood on the other side of the courtyard, not quite far from Gisborne. Carter had a bow in his arms and aimed at Gisborne's back. She noticed that the Crusader had been wounded and had bandaged himself with rags. There was a large spot of dry blood in the area of his stomach and on his right side.

Carter strode forward, his gait unsteady. He slightly limped from his injury, but advanced forward.

Gisborne swung around to face the intruder, and his face revealed pure rage. "Carter!" He scowled. "You must be dead." He knew that Vaisey had stabbed him in what seemed to be a fatal attack.

Carter scoffed. "Gisborne, the rumors of my death are exaggerated."

"Then you will die now," Gisborne threatened. He raised his sword and pointed it at Carter. "You are injured and unable to fight with me. You won't win this battle."

Carter laughed, despite the pain throbbing in his side. "I don't need to fight. I will shoot you."

Gisborne sneered. "You are not the best marksman, not like Hood. You may miss."

"I am not as skillful at archery as Robin is, but I will surely shoot you. Let's try," Carter responded.

Carter fired an arrow that struck Gisborne in his right shoulder. It would have hit Guy into his chest if he hadn't turned away. Guy screamed horribly in pain and terror. The Crusader nocked another arrow that struck Gisborne at his hips. Guy fell on his knees with a savage roar, and his sword slipped from his hand. Then his large body fell on the sand.

Marian involuntary flinched as he saw Gisborne's defeat. She glanced at Guy and felt his eyes at her, full of pain, sorrow, and bitterness. His eyes seemed to see into her very core, and she even blamed herself for Guy's sudden demise. Then she reminded herself that Guy had been their enemy as he had intended to kill the King. She was grateful that Carter had saved her life. Gisborne would have killed her after her revelation if the Crusader hadn't found her on time.

She smiled. "Thank you, Carter."

Marian marched to Gisborne. She had to disarm him. She leaned down and took his sword in her arms. Not forgetting about the curved dagger which Guy wore on his waist, she grabbed it. As she gave Guy another look, Marian again saw hot anger and heartache in his glare.

"I am sorry. I am sorry," Marian whispered, looking at Guy's face.

Guy stared back at her with his pain-burnt, steel blue eyes, glowing on his handsome, pale face. His expression changed, turning bleak and vulnerable. "Don't play games with me. You are a liar and Hood's whore. I don't believe you." He moved his right leg and groaned. His eyes were wide with pain, his open mouth working soundlessly in agony. He spoke again, slowly and in a trembling voice. "Go and find your precious Hood, provided that he is still alive."

Marian swallowed painfully. "I am sorry," she repeated and stepped away from him.

Gisborne tried to move his body and roared with unimaginable pain. He was seriously, if not gravely, injured. Guy thrust out his hand and cried out in pain as he withdrew an arrow from his hip. He wanted to pull out the source of pain, but in fact he only made his condition worse: without an arrow, the bleeding intensified. Realizing his mistake, he cursed and lowered his chin, staring at the hot fountain of blood, which drenched his lower body and at the crimson pool on the sand beneath him.

Despite the pain, Guy didn't pull out an arrow from his shoulder. He cursed again as a new wave of pain fulgurated his body. It was clear that he wouldn't be able to stand up by himself. Although Carter didn't kill him on the spot, he suspected that he could die due to huge blood loss and infection. If the blood flow didn't stop soon, he would be as dead as the desert itself by the end of the day, he thought. He was just another helpless and wounded man, a criminal lying on the hot yellow sand.

Carter smiled at Marian. "Now it is our time to laugh." He saved Marian and the King, but they also had to help the King. "Let's get to the King."

Marian nodded and stepped away from Gisborne, giving him her last glance. She didn't feel victorious and pitied him. "I wonder where Robin and the gang are."

"They are better to come here as soon as possible," Carter rasped. "I won't be the best fighter if we are attacked. It is a simple luck that I had a bow. I took it from one of the killed Saracens."

Carter and Marian reached the King of England. Marian heard that Gisborne moaned and wished to turn around, but she couldn't do that – the King was more important than his would-be assassin. She squatted and examined the King's wound, whereas Carter stood and observed.

"We need Djaq to tend to the King's wound," Marian said, her eyes full of concern for the King's heath.

"Djaq is in the midst of the battle, and we have no time to wait," Carter retorted.

"We won't wait. I will do what I can," she pledged.

At that moment, King Richard opened his eyes. "I am fine," he murmured in French.

"My liege, you are alive!" Carter exclaimed in French, a warm smile on his face. He crossed himself.

"Yes, I am. But somebody still shot me." The King winced in pain and a cry erupted from his mouth as Marian withdrew an arrow out of his body.

"My lord, the injury is not as bad as it seemed at the first glance, but it must be properly treated," Marian addressed to the King of England, also in French. She cast an apologetic glance at Richard. "I am sorry for causing you pain, milord."

Though Marian had never met King Richard before the recent events in Acre, she wasn't surprised that their sovereign preferred French over English because Robin had once informed her that he had always spoken with the King in Norman-French in the Holy Land.

"Thank you, my lady," Richard responded with a vague smile. "Where are others?"

Marian leapt to her feet and strode towards the fountain to fetch water for the King's wound. They had to clean it as soon as possible. The King's life was sacred. She instantly returned to the King, listening to the conversation between Richard and Carter.

"On my way here, I saw many fallen Saracens. It seems that there were many soldiers here. It was indeed a trap. I counted at least fifteen dead Saracens. I also found James – he was headless," Carter reported. "I was lucky that I didn't meet any living soldiers and saw only corpses."

"What? James is here and dead? Are you sure?" the King snapped in astonishment. He scowled as hot anger and unmatched fury swept over him. "James conspired with the Sheriff to kill me?"

James was the Captain of the Private Guard, the King's right hand and his close friend. The revelation shocked Richard to the marrow of his bones.

Marian said nothing. She was working with the King's wound, cleaning it. Djaq would have done it better, but they didn't have time to wait. With the King's agreement, Carter tore apart the King's mantle so as to use it for bandaging the arm.

"Yes, I am sure, milord. James was here with the assassins," Carter confirmed.

"Foul traitor! I trusted him so much! Let him rot in hell!" Richard fumed. His eyes shot daggers. "He was with me when Robin came to warn me." Guilt that he didn't trust Robin slashed through him. He should have known better whom to believe.

"James was well aware of our deals and used it to trap Robin," Carter inferred.

Richard's face softened at the sound of Robin's name. "Carter, did you see Robin?"

Carter slightly inclined his head. "I caught a glimpse of Robin on the roof of the building. He killed an assassin and then quickly disappeared, hurrying somewhere else. I heard a clash of metal and war screams in the other part of the town. While I made my way here, I found a lot of Saracens killed from Robin's bow. I can easily recognize his arrows."

Marian finished cleaning the wound and bandaged the King's arm.

"Thank you, my lady," Richard said with gratitude.

Marian blushed slightly. "It is nothing, milord. You still need help from a qualified physician." She jumped to another subject. "They are not here because they must be fighting somewhere else."

"Yes, they are." Carter nodded and looked at Marian. "I also saw…" He trailed off. "I discovered the big man, John, on the ground, near three dead Saracens."

"Is he dead?" the King asked.

Carter shook his head. "I think so."

Marian felt sharp pain in her heart. If John was dead, Robin could also be dead. She was truly afraid at that moment. "Oh God…"

"It is a war," the monarch said calmly. Having been a military commander since his early adulthood, he had seen death many times. Death and danger were essential elements of his everyday life.

A sigh tumbled from Carter's lips. "My condolences, Marian." Then his eyes flew to Richard. "Sire, we must leave this place for your safety. You are injured and need help. Your wound must be treated by a physician. Otherwise you might succumb to infection."

"Carter, you also need a physician," the King pointed out.

Carter smiled. "The bleeding stopped. I even cleaned the wound. I will survive."

"We cannot leave! Robin and others are not here!" Marian objected in a low voice.

"We must leave. We don't know how many assassins are still hiding here. Robin and others killed many of them, but the Sheriff may bring the new reinforcement," Carter explained.

"We will take more people at the camp and return. Then we will rectify the situation," Richard suggested. He didn't want to abandon Robin in the battle, still feeling remorse for what he had done in the morning. Yet, he and Carter were injured and couldn't fight with the Saracens.

"But, I…" Marian's voice was cracking.

King Richard interrupted her. A stern look crossed his face. "The battlefield is not a place for a woman. Lady Marian, you will leave with us. It is an order," he commanded strictly. "Robin will be alright. He is a trained soldier, one of the best I have ever seen. He knows how to fight with the Saracens, outwit them, and win the battle," he said soothingly, wishing to appease Marian and reassure himself that Robin was safe.

"Marian, Robin didn't want you to be here. You know that he treasures your life," Carter remarked.

"We are leaving," the King said, a ring of finality in his tone.

She nodded and sighed. "As you wish, milord."

She wasn't pleased with the King's decision, but she couldn't disregard his order. The reminder about Robin's unwillingness to risk her life brought her back to her senses. She was alone, with two wounded men, and couldn't resist the army of the Turks.

§§§

Carter helped King Richard rise. The King of England straightened his spine and clutched his wounded arm. They passed injured Gisborne and marched to the King's horse.

Marian glanced at Gisborne and saw a huge pool of blood near his motionless form. Marian's heart missed a beat as she pitied Guy. She could do nothing for him – he himself made a choice and had to live with consequences.

They needed another horse, and Carter intended to put the King and Marian on the King's stallion. Carter planned to walk by foot until their found another horse.

The voices on the other side of the square made them pause.

"Blah-di-blah-di-blah! King Richard the Lionheart himself! We found you!" Vaisey bellowed as he stumbled into the square from the right. "I don't see the lion here!" He laughed with an ugly laugh as his eyes took in the wounded King. "Where is the lion? I see only injured prey! It was I who shot you!" He laughed again as his gaze drifted to Carter and Marian. "Oh, this is good! This is good! We have Gisborne's leper and a traitor Carter here! Brilliant!"

Several people stood behind Vaisey. They were three Saracens and the Black Knights – the Earl of Spenser and the Earl of Hereford. They smiled at the confused faces of the King and his friends.

The Earl of Spenser and the Earl of Hereford were two treacherous Crusaders bought by the Black Knights. The Earl of Spenser was the current member of the King's Guard. Like James, he betrayed his sovereign and spied on him on behalf of Sheriff Vaisey and his allies in the Holy Land.

The Earl of Hereford had served in the King's Private Guard for the first four years of the Third Crusade. Hereford was sent home in disgrace for insubordination by King Richard, but at Robin of Locksley's request. Hereford spent too much time at the infamous brothels of Acre after Richard's troops had taken the port city by siege, and Robin was extremely displeased with that. After several warnings, Robin asked the King to dismiss the knight for insubordination. Thus, the Earl of Hereford hated the Lionheart and Robin. Upon his return in England, he became the Black Knight.

King Richard, Carter, and Marian only stared back at them. They were trapped by the Black Knights, hopefully only temporarily. They had to postpone their escape.

Richard eyed the traitors, his face expressionless like carved out of marble, his posture regal; inside he shuddered at the thought of being killed by his own subjects. Carter swore many oaths in colorful epithets in his mind and prepared his bow to defend them. Marian paled and in desperation gripped the hilt of Guy's sword in her right arm.

Vaisey ran his eyes across the square and laughed, his gaze fixing at the motionless form of Gisborne. "Gisborne! Gisborne!" he cried out, staring at Guy. He paused, waiting for Guy's reaction. As their eyes met, he went on. "Shame on you, Gisborne! You are utterly incompetent and stupid. You always fail me. I saw a potential in you, but you failed me twice and didn't kill the King. You are a pathetic weakling and imbecile. You deserve to bleed out in the desert. You are useless to save you."

"Gisborne disappointed us. Today he was shot twice," the Earl of Hereford agreed with a wry smile. "He didn't live up to our expectations. He is a dead load."

"Gisborne failed when he was so close. He is finished," the Earl of Spenser said.

"Bla-di-bla-di-bla! Not only Gisborne is finished." Vaisey laughed as he looked at the King, Marian, and Carter. "This is good! This is good! I am happy!" His cunning smile grew wider. "Now we will complete what Gisborne failed to do. Lepers will finally get leprosy and traitors death!" He rubbed his hands in satisfaction. "And England will have a new King!"

Guy of Gisborne heard Vaisey's speech and the Black Knights' words. He turned his head to look at the Sheriff. If he correctly interpreted their words, the Sheriff and the Black Knights didn't plan to save him. He felt repulsion and disgust with the situation. Vaisey's insulting words made Guy almost vomit from a tart taste of loathing to the man who humiliated him for so many years and whom he served because he hoped to gain power and re-establish the Gisborne's proud inheritance – name and lands – with the help of the acquired power and wealth.

Guy wholeheartedly hated the Sheriff and all the Black Knights at that moment. He could have easily killed Vaisey if he hadn't been so badly injured. It was a strange sensation for Gisborne, but he half wished to see Robin Hood and his gang to rescue them from the Sheriff and his allies. Hood could have rapidly killed all of them with a lethal tornado of countless arrows from his bow.

The fallen Black Knight didn't care for King Richard and especially for Carter who brought his demise. Yet, he suddenly realized that he didn't want Marian to die, at least not at Vaisey's hand. He hated Marian for her numerous betrayals, for not loving him and choosing his worst enemy over himself, but he also still loved her, despite her cruel words and cunning games with his feelings, which she needed to work as Hood's spy at the castle and trick Guy to have all the information about the Sheriff's plans.

Guy sighed and scoffed at himself. He shouldn't dream about rescue: he was seriously wounded and still bled in the sand, and even if he had been saved by the Black Knights, he would have never gained Vaisey's trust and favor after his second failure. If Hood had killed all the Black Knights and Guy had stayed alive, King Richard would have surely made him suffer a slow, painful punishment of being hanged, drawn, and quartered for high treason – his participation in two regicide attempts and the plots to place Prince John on the throne. In that case, he would have to die a horrible and shameful death; his name would be ruined and spoken only with malice and scorn.

Guy shut his eyes. His private life was miserable: Marian loved Robin and was lost to him; without her all his hopes to have redemption and have a family faded away. His life and his world were destroyed. He was a dead man, and it would probably be better for him to die from his injuries. He wanted to die.

The threat of brutal slaughter hung in the air like a curse. Tragedy and fatality enveloped them. The only hope was that Robin and the others would come in the courtyard before they were brutally murdered.

* * *

_Marian is not killed by Guy of Gisborne in this story. Instead, she is saved by Carter. Gisborne's fate is still under consideration. I think I will give Guy a chance for redemption, but I am still thinking about it._

_I have already planned the plot and mapped out the majority of the scenes. However, if you have any ideas to share, feel free to do it._

**_Reviews are always appreciated, including well grounded criticism._**

_If you find any typos and/or mistakes here, please let me know about them in a private message. There might be some typos as I am not a native speaker, although I have been using English since my early childhood. _

_Thank you for reading this chapter. Have a lovely weekend._

_Yours faithfully, Amaranthe Athénaïs_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Escape from Imuiz**

The enemies stood in front of each other, all of them involved in the matters of their own thoughts. No one dared to speak. Vaisey and his accomplices wore smug, triumphant smiles on their faces. King Richard, Carter, and Marian were silent, their heads high, as they scrutinized their enemies and contemplated their chances to escape. Gisborne lay on the sand, not far from the King, shuddering and suppressing his groans of pain as he didn't wish Vaisey and the Black Knights to see him so vulnerable and aidless.

In the full glare of the sun, there was no shade where they stood, no escape to the coolness of the darkened buildings. Everyone's breathing was not smooth due to the fiery, prickling heat that cast its sulphurous spell over all of them, like hellfire encompassing them with its fierce-burning flames of black agony of having a burning ember land on the skin of their faces.

King Richard looked calm and regal. Marian cast a sidelong glance at her liege and was stunned with the exterior of calmness and dispassionateness on his face. The aura of regality surrounded the King of England – he had been born with it. All people recognized it immediately, and Marian was not an exception. She prayed that Robin and others would save them, but she was strangely calm. It was as though King Richard's dignity and calmness had fallen upon her.

King Richard bent his head and asked Marian the Sheriff's name. Then he raised his head and glanced at the enemy party. "How many regicide attempts did you commit, Lord Vaisey?" the King spoke coolly, in English, but with a heavy French accent.

Sheriff Vaisey laughed. Vaisey wasn't tall like Gisborne whose dark leather figure always seemed imposing and overwhelming as he towered above his companions. Yet, even in the sunlight of the early afternoon, the Sheriff looked shadowy, mainly due to his black clothing and his unpleasant, malicious smile, as though he had wrapped the night around himself.

"Blah-di-blah-di-blah! This will be our last attempt, King Richard the Lionheart. We failed over a year ago when simpleton Gisborne was stopped by your beloved Robin Red Beast before he could strike a final blow. Gizzy injured Robin, but Hood still managed to kill many of the hired mercenaries and saved your life," Vaisey said waspishly. "But it was only a matter of time before we prevail. This time Hood won't save you, and England will have a new King."

Marian swallowed hard. Every fibre of her body stretched tightly, like an arrow in Saracen bow. Finally, she heard the avowal that Guy had indeed tried to kill the King. She turned her head and looked at Guy on the ground. Their eyes met, and she read confirmation in his gaze. She turned away, gazing westward, to where the only clouds on the sky were.

Richard raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Robin Red Beast?"

Vaisey shot the King a grin. "Ah, yes, King Richard! Robin of Locksley, Robin Hood, Robin Red Beast – they are the same person."

"Are you sure that my younger brother will be a better ruler?" the King addressed to the Sheriff.

Vaisey snorted. "It is not about who is more suitable to be the King."

"How much did my brother pay you? What did he promise you?" Richard looked right into Vaisey's eyes, a smile on his lips. He tried to win more time until Robin and the gang came.

"It is an hour of candidness before your death. I will tell you the truth." The Sheriff pursed his lips. "It is a matter of power."

"This is what I thought." King Richard burst into a booming laugher, with a touch of contempt. "Murdering me is not the brightest idea that has ever popped into your head, Lord Vaisey. You don't know my brother well, Vaisey. John has a fickle nature, and you may easily lose his favor. He used you to create the Black Knights Club and murder me so as he can obtain my throne. When John doesn't need you, Vaisey, he will dispose of you without any second thought. He may even ask one of the other Black Knights to kill you in cold blood."

Vaisey stiffened. There was the truth in what Richard had said, but Vaisey didn't want to think about that. Absolute power was within an easy reach for him, and it almost blinded him. "Bla-di-bla-di-bla! I am tired of wasting my time. Don't try to win more time in hopes for salvation."

"I am also bored. Let's finish this." The Earl of Hereford had never liked King Richard and hated him since his removal from the King's retinue. "Milord, your favorite, Robin of Locksley, should already be dead. It is your turn now," he said to the King, a vile smile on his lips.

"The Earl of Spenser and the Earl of Hereford! You are here!" Carter yelled. He eyed them and grimaced in disgust. "You are traitors to your King!"

"No! No! Robin cannot be dead! It is not true!" Marian muttered in horror.

"Quiet," King Richard warned Marian.

Hereford smiled. "Locksley will die in any case. He should have been dead in that Saracen attack organized by Gisborne, but he survived." He rubbed his hands in satisfaction. "Anyway, his minutes on Earth are numbered."

Richard looked at the two treacherous Crusaders. "I may understand why you want my death, Hereford, although I sent you home for insubordination because of your own shameful behavior in Acre. Only you can be blamed that you disgraced yourself in the brothels of Acre, where you settled down after you had deserted our first march to Jerusalem." His gaze flew to Spenser. "What did I do wrong with you, Spenser? I have always held you in a high regard."

"Power and wealth," Spenser said unhesitatingly.

It was as simple as sunset and nightfall. All traitors dreamed of power and wealth, but no one thought that they had sold their immortal souls to devil for a handful of coins, the King mused.

"Enough! Enough babbling! I want to hear the lion's agonizing shouts! The last shout of pain!" Vaisey squealed. "You are cornered, aren't you, the lion?"

If he feared to be murdered, King Richard didn't show that. The King had lived among death for so many years that it became a natural part of his life. He welcomed an honorable death on the battlefield, but he definitely didn't want to die at the hands of his own countrymen. Yet, if he had to die, he would face his death with indifference and dignity, which unnerved his enemies.

Marian and Carter flinched in disgust from Vaisey's disrespect to the King.

"Show respect to your King!" Carter reprimanded.

"It is alright, Carter." Richard laughed. He didn't fear at all and looked like someone who patiently waited for the storm to be over. "You think I am afraid of you and death, Lord Vaisey? If you believe in this, you are an utter fool."

"Vaisey must grow up and improve his manners," Marian said aloud, with a smile. She told Robin that he needed to grow up, and that irritated the master of Sherwood, though she frequently acted immature. Now her words were said right to the point.

King Richard and Carter smiled. Gisborne also heard her words and broke into a large smile. It was a typical Marian, fearless, vigorous, and audacious.

Vaisey was so angry that his throat closed up, threatening to choke him. He regarded Marian, an ugly smile on his lips. "My dear missy, I thought that a cat got your tongue, but I see that it is still witty. You usually had so much to say to Gisborne, whom you fed with lies and brought down. And, my leper friend, now you will pay your debt."

"And when will you pay for your crimes, Vaisey?" Marian challenged.

"Missy, you were always scuttling around me and Gisborne, like a mouse in a storehouse, biting your tongue all day." The Sheriff smiled broadly and put a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Now you will pay for your lies and sharp tongue. But, at first the Lionheart will roar like a lion."

"Bla-di-bla-di-bla-bla-di-bla-blah! A clue – no," the well-modulated voice, parodying the Sheriff, came from the other side of the square.

King Richard, Carter, and Marian turned around at the sound of the familiar baritone. Marian smiled, feeling euphoric. Carter and the King sighed with unbelievable relief. Robin, Much, and Allan were there. Neither of them was injured. Marian wondered where Will and Djaq were.

"Hood! Again you!" Vaisey hissed. His face evolved from paleness to redness.

Hereford clenched his fists. "Locksley always comes out of nowhere."

"Robin," Marian whispered, a smile hovering over her lips.

"Always at your service, Vaisey," Robin proclaimed with an insolent grin. "I think this regicide attempt has also been failed. Prince John won't be happy at all."

"Kill the King! Kill Hood! Kill them!" Vaisey's high-pitched voice coursed through the hot air.

Gisborne heard the whole conversation and observed the scene unfolding before his eyes. He was astounded that he hadn't passed out yet. The flow of blood from the wound on his hips had decelerated, but he had already lost much blood. Only his excellent heath from birth and physical strength let him be still alive.

Guy was glad that Robin Hood and the gang came on time, destroying Vaisey's plans to kill King Richard and able to save Marian. He expected the tornado of Hood's arrows to crush many assassins, and he was pleased with that. After Vaisey had spoken those insidious words, he was filled with eagerness to see the Sheriff's demise, even if it occurred at Hood's hand.

Guy hadn't seen King Richard in the daylight before, and now he was really impressed with Richard's leadership and regality: the King handled the critical situation with wisdom, dignity, and verve, showing his skills to such advantage that Guy agreed that Richard was the greatest warrior and the capable man. He could have easily understood what Hood had seen in Richard and why he had followed him in the Crusade in the Holy Land.

§§§

The Saracens thundered a war cry. At the sight of the ongoing attack, Allan and Much ran to King Richard, Carter, and Marian; they handed to Carter and King Richard two scimitars, which they confiscated from the killed Saracens. They must have been able to defend themselves if Robin's distraction with shooting was not enough to take the Black Knights down. Marian still have Gisborne's sword and assumed to fight.

Robin saw a sizeable number of the galloping Arabic horses. Vaisey definitely had more assassins in the town, or he could have brought the reinforcement. Robin thanked providence that he had retrieved many arrows from the Saracens he had killed in the previous fights. He prepared to take down as many assassins as possible. They had to block their way to the King, Carter, and Marian. Robin's plan was to distract the enemy while they waited for Will and Djaq with horses.

Several assassins dismounted and lunged at King Richard and his companions. Vaisey, Spenser, and Hereford stood aside, preferring to be the spectators of the battle.

Disregarding pain in his right shoulder, King Richard unsheathed the sword and blocked the Saracen's blow, swinging his sword in a consequence of diagonal and overhead blows. Gritting his teeth and groaning in pain from the injury at his right side, Carter followed his King's example and parried the blow of the assassin who advanced towards him.

Allan tried to help Carter with the assassin, but the Crusader instructed him to stay near the King, guarding the monarch from the back. Much was near Marian, trying to protect her in the fight, as Robin asked him. The clash of metal upon metal resonated in the hot air as the fight began.

Robin remained aside from the sword fight, staring at the assassins and assessing the situation. He had enough arrows in his quiver. Robin fired an arrow and one Saracen fell. He nocked several more arrows, and the other Saracens fell down from their horses on the sand.

Robin continued shooting. His aim was deadly, and he smiled as his arrows, each of them tipped with razor-sharp arrowheads, slammed deep into the assassins' chests and flanks, injuring their hearts and lungs. The horses cried in fright, the Saracens fell dead on the sand.

While some time ago it was an organized attack of the Saracens, menacing and willing to take the life of the barbarian King of England, now it looked like a circus of the rearing terrified horses and the men cursing the archer. Robin nocked more arrows that sliced into the remaining Saracens, and more assassins dropped dead to the ground.

Richard swung his sword at the Saracen's neck, and the jar of the blade chopped into his spine, at the base of his head. The Saracen screamed, and his body gave a huge convulsive jerk.

Much dispatched one assassin with a swift blow to his heart, and then he beheaded another man. Carter was involved in the battle with another man, swinging and slicing his blade deep into his flank. As Allan dispatched one man and, wounded, he fell on the ground, Carter leaned down and plunged his sword into the heart of that groaning enemy.

"Oh, it is not funny," Allan murmured.

"The Crusader never remains his job undone," Carter explained.

"Oh, I see," Allan replied half-heartedly.

Marian's sword clashed with the long curved blade of the tall, large-framed Saracen. She unsuccessfully tried to dispatch him, but failed. He was physically much stronger than she. She backed away, to the fountain. With a diagonal blow, the man knocked the sword from her hand. He lunged at her, and she shut her eyes before her death. But no penetration of cold steel followed: the Saracen lurched and fell as Much plunged his blade into the man's back.

Allan finished off one man and was attacked by the huge Saracen, whose figure, like a mountain, towered over his lean frame. After a prolonged fight, Allan was in trouble: with a diagonal blow, the Saracen disarmed him and Allan lost his footing, falling on the ground. Richard noticed that and plunged his sword into the assassin's back at the moment when the Saracen prepared to swing a final blow into Allan's chest.

"Thank you, my liege," Allan said shyly, half afraid to look into the King's eyes.

Richard extended his hand to Allan. "Welcome. Rise, lad," he said in a heavily accented English.

Allan blinked and took the King's hand. He scrambled to his feet and looked at Richard. He didn't expect that Richard spoke barely understandable English. "Thank you, milord," he said officially. He knew that he had to be formal with the King and pushed aside his usual jokes and slang.

"What else could I do to atone for what I did in the morning?" The King smirked.

Allan also smiled. The King seemed to be not as bad as he imagined in the morning. "You saved my life. We are even-steven."

"Yes, lad, we are." Richard clapped the younger man's shoulder.

A disquieting silence descended upon the courtyard. After the fight with the Saracens, there were only King Richard and his defenders who were alive on the battlefield. There were many dead assassins, whose bodies, twisted and unnaturally sprawled, lay scattered everywhere around the King and his companions on the sand, dressed in the blood-stained Arabic clothing. Yet, it was not over because the Black Knights were in Imuiz. They had to quickly depart from the area.

Robin still stood aside. He didn't use his scimitar during the fight. Much wanted to stay with him and shot arrows at the enemies, but he ordered him to protect the King and Marian, knowing that Richard and Carter were injured. He had no doubt that Richard and Carter would fight, neglecting their injuries, and he needed to protect them while Will and Djaq went to find horses.

"Robin, well done," the King praised, looking at his favorite solider with a crooked smile.

Robin heard Richard's words and merely inclined his head. Half afraid that there was another trap ahead, he wondered where the Sheriff and the Black Knights had gone.

Robin's eyes swept the King from head to foot, taking in the condition of his liege. He noticed that the King briefly clutched his shoulder, but then swiftly took his hand away. Robin knew that Richard didn't like when others saw him in pain and vulnerable. The King was an embodiment of the kingdom he ruled, and his behavior served as an example for his knights and subjects. Thus, Richard had to be strong before others and in the face of death. Robin scanned the King with his eyes and frowned as he saw that Richard's wound, which had apparently been tended by, perhaps, Marian, was again torn and open. The King needed an urgent medical help.

"Robin's shooting saved our lives," Carter said in a weak voice, yet cheerfully.

Carter sat on the ground, on his knees; he was extremely exhausted after the fight and clutched his wound that was again torn open. The bleeding resumed, and he urgently needed physician. He wasn't convinced that he would be able to rise on his own, without any help.

"Robin helped us a lot," Allan remarked.

"There is no one other marksman like my Master," Much said proudly.

"His archery skills are amazing. I may take a lesson." Carter forced a smile, but a groan tumbled from his mouth as he moved his body.

"You will never be as good with bow as my Master," Much chaffed.

"Come now, Much. Robin will teach me and I will be a better archer than he is. You are alive after the battle and still didn't find what could make you bleed into the sand," Carter teased.

Much's eyes registered an increasing spot of blood on Carter's tunic. "How are you feeling?"

Carter shrugged. "Not very good."

Robin smiled as Will and Djaq galloped on the black Arabic horses covered with black leather saddles. On the one of the horses, there was Little John's prone body. Robin wondered what happened to John and when they found time to collect his body. A lump formed in his throat at the thought that Little John had probably died. The giant wanted to die in England, not in the desert, and Robin would blame himself John's death if the man was killed in the fight.

The black leather on the saddles meant that the horses most likely belonged to Sheriff Vaisey and Guy of Gisborne. He suspected that it was Will and Djaq's plan to take the Black Knights' horses to infuriate the Sheriff and make it impossible for him to chase after the King. With the King's horse that was rideless in the center of the courtyard they all could have escaped Imuiz.

"Get out of here!" Robin shrilled, hastily taking a few steps towards them. "Now! Now!"

They didn't have time. King Richard and Marian had to leave the ghost town. The lives of Marian and the King were priceless for Robin, and he would move Heaven and Earth to save them. Honest with himself, he was ready to sacrifice his own life and those of any of his friends if it meant that King Richard and Marian would survive. It was selfish to care so much for the King and Marian, but he could do nothing with himself.

"My horses! My horses!" Vaisey whimpered. "Do something, you idiots!"

Robin laughed as he saw the Sheriff's face that contorted in anger. "Take it, Vaisey! Enjoy!"

The Sheriff also laughed, but his laugher was a single deep grunt of scorn. "You will pay for it, Hood! I will get you! I will get you!"

"You vowed to do it many times, Vaisey. Still, you failed," Robin taunted.

The horses stopped near the King. Will and Allan carried Carter to the horse and mounted him there as Carter was so weak from blood loss and helpless. Will climbed on the same horse and wrapped his arms around Carter's waist, supporting his weakening form in the saddle. King Richard gripped Marian's hand and dragged her to his horse. He pushed her ahead and forced her to mount, then climbed to the horse himself.

§§§

"Damn this band of unwashed outlaws! Our horses! Stop them! Get them!" Vaisey continued in anger and indignation. He was furious.

While the King and others mounted the horses, the Sheriff and two Black Knights prepared to attack. Hereford and Spenser unsheathed their swords. Vaisey took his Saracen bow, planning to shoot the King and the outlaws and then run away.

Robin's eyes intercepted Vaisey's movements. He had only four arrows left, but it was enough not to let Vaisey shoot at the King and others. His eyes met Vaisey's, and he smiled. He nocked an arrow, and it slammed into Vaisey's right hand. Vaisey cried out in pain; the bow slipped from his hand and he cursed Hood.

Robin released the rest of the arrows, but Vaisey, Hereford, and Spenser turned away. One of the arrows struck Spenser in his left shoulder, and he wheeled away with a curse. They hurried to leave, and their dark figures vanished in the nearby building.

Only the King, Carter, the outlaws, and Gisborne remained in the courtyard.

Realizing that the distraction had worked, Robin looked at Little John's body. "Djaq, how is John?" he requested, deliberately in Arabic as only Djaq and he among them understood the language. He didn't wish to make havoc of the situation.

Djaq stared at Robin. She looked slightly alarmed, not knowing how to tell Robin the truth. It was not good to be the harbinger of disturbing news for a fighting man that even though he was barely alive, Little John had been fatally wounded and that she didn't believe that he would pull through. She had to lie to Robin in order not to send him into a wave of depression until he returned to the King's camp. It would be better to withhold the bitter truth.

"John was wounded. I will examine him later," Djaq answered neutrally.

Marian sat on the King's white stallion, behind King Richard himself. He instructed her to embrace him about his waist to keep the balance, and she felt her cheeks turning crimson. Richard laughed at her embarrassment.

When he lay injured, Richard heard a small part of Marian's conversation with Gisborne, including the words that Marian loved Robin. He immediately recalled that Robin had mentioned several times during the war that his heart had belonged to Lady Marian of Knighton, the daughter of Sir Edward of Knighton, the former Sheriff of Nottingham and Robin's ex-fiancée. He also remembered that Robin had secretly hoped that Marian hadn't married another man in his absence. It was a mystery how Marian had arrived in the Holy Land and ended up in the desert with Robin, and Richard decided to learn the whole story later.

The King said jovially that Robin Hood's bride was a shy, modest lady, a good choice for Robin. Marian felt as though she had been swallowed by Earth as she wrapped her arms around the King's waist. Never had she fantasized that she would seat on the King's horse in such an intimate pose.

Marian turned her head and glanced at Robin. She didn't want to leave him. "Robin! Robin! Robin!" she exclaimed. Her eyes silently questioned whether he intended to stay, and she could read an unspoken confirmation in the resolute, hard gaze of his pale blue eyes.

"Silence! We are leaving," King Richard croaked.

Marian looked at Robin, and he nodded at her. She sighed heavily, praying that Robin would cope. She nuzzled her face into Richard's back. Then she rapidly raised her head not to feel more uncomfortable and embarrassed. The King was injured in his right shoulder, and his wound was open again; she didn't want to cause discomfort to her sovereign.

"Yes, sire," Marian whispered.

Richard half turned his head to see her face. "Robin and others will follow us soon." He grinned. "I highly doubt that Robin will be ready to die before he marries you."

Robin, Much, and Allan remained in Imuiz. The horses of the escapees rode steadily forward through the town, raising a dust from the sand. The Sheriff's horses could outpace many horses, which helped them flee in a short time.

Sheriff Vaisey, the Earl of Spenser, and the Earl of Hereford disappeared in one of the nearby buildings. There also were the four Saracen assassins, the survivors of the battle.

Vaisey swore many oaths that he would finally kill the King and get Hood. Injured in his shoulder, Spenser cursed Robin in his mind for his archery skills. Spenser was also angry because the King of England fled and now knew that he, the current member of the King's Private Guard, was a traitor. Spenser couldn't return to the King's camp. Hereford was the calmest among them.

Vaisey settled on the floor, his chest pressed to the window-ledge. He removed an arrow from his left hand and moaned in pain. As he glanced into the window, his spirits plummeted at the picture of numerous dead bodies there, and he cursed Robin Hood over and over again. Hereford was also seething with anger. Spenser already thought how to run away from Acre.

Vaisey watched the receding figures of the English King and the gang. Rage overcame him, and he grabbed his Saracen bow. He was angry at Gisborne who was so close to kill Richard and failed. He also grew angry at himself for not being able to assassinate the King. He wanted to use the last chance and kill the King or at least someone else of the outlaws who again outwitted him.

"Oh, this is good! King Richard and my leper friend are on the same horse," Vaisey said in a singsong voice. "Gisborne was completely witless as he failed to kill the Lionheart and this goddamned leper. Perhaps, I will be luckier now. Someone of them might die now."

Gritting his teeth, Vaisey fired an arrow. A spasm of pain transfixed his arm, and his aim was far from being perfect. The arrow struck Marian in her left arm. She cried out in pain and swiftly withdrew the arrow. Vaisey nocked another arrow, but he missed: the King was already far away and the Sheriff wasn't a renowned marksman.

"Very well then," Hereford said forbearingly. "My lord, you injured the girl in her arm."

Spenser laughed, amused by the Sheriff's desperate attempt to cause more damage when they had more plans ahead. "She is definitely not dead, and her wound is not severe."

Vaisey drummed his fingers on the bow and threw it away. "At least I injured this leper."

"Perhaps, we should leave Acre today," Spenser offered.

Vaisey gripped Spenser's sleeve and pushed him on the sand, their faces very close. "We will go nowhere. We cannot leave. We all are in the same boat. We have a large army of the Saracen mercenaries stationed ten miles to the south of Acre. They are the soldiers we hired with the help of the huge taxes collected from Hood's dirty peasants in Nottinghamshire and other counties." He licked his lips. "Together with the army of our Muslim allies, all these troops should be enough to defeat the King if we attack his camp in the night."

Hereford arched a brow. "Do you plan to give King Richard's troops another battle?"

"We can kill the King in the battle. He always fights with his generals and knights," Vaisey said.

"And he rules from the front," Spenser added, smirking.

"The King was wounded," Hereford interjected.

Vaisey smiled wryly, clapping his hands together. "We will give the lion time to recover. He wasn't seriously wounded. In several days, he will be able to fight."

Hereford doubted the brilliance of Vaisey's idea. "I am not sure that I like this idea."

"Don't be fools! We cannot go back to England! Prince John will have our heads on a spike after the second failure!" the Sheriff cried out. As the thought struck him, he smiled spitefully. "It would be great if Robin Hood died here. He caused us so much trouble that I hate him now even more than I hate Hood's precious King."

"The King left, but Locksley is still here," Spenser noted, with a conspiratorial smile.

"Hood shot many assassins," Hereford grumbled.

"If we go back to the courtyard, Hood will shoot again. It is better to flee and join the army in the south of Acre if we want to proceed to our plan," Spenser opined.

"Cowards! Did you see that the Lionheart and Carter were fighting, ignoring pain? I also shot my leper friend with my wound," the Sheriff said, his tone edged with disdain. "Hood has few arrows left. He and his friends are weary." He smiled wickedly. "You, Hereford, will have a chance to settle a score with Robin Red Beast. Hood's death might become the quintessence of this day."

§§§

Robin observed the escape of the King, Marian, and his friends. Much and Allan were at his side. He couldn't be even-minded until they succesfully rode out of the town. He hoped that there would be no arrow attack, an ambush, or any other trap ahead.

Staring ahead, he was absorbed in his thoughts about their plans. He didn't intend to be engaged in a new battle. As nobody set chase after Vaisey and Black Knights, it was likely that Robin and the outlaws had killed almost all Saracen assassins in Imuiz. If Robin's assumption was right, then Vaisey, Hereford, and Spenser were left alone.

Robin doubted that Vaisey would be able to bring the massive reinforcement. If earlier he wished only to delay the Black Knights and assassins, allowing the King to escape, now he thought that they could have tried to capture Vaisey and the others. At another side, nobody knew where Vaisey and his accomplices were hiding and how many assassins were left. Eventually, Robin decided to stay and investigate where the Sheriff had gone. Then they would leave the town.

As the King and the others were within a few steps from the courtyard, a distant, wild scream came to Robin's ear. The scream was drowned out by loud human shouts. It occurred to Robin, subconsciously, that it was a female shout. He knew that voice very well – it was Marian's groan. His heart sank into his throat. He feared that Marian might have been severely wounded or killed.

"What happened?" Much asked, startled and horrified.

Allan sighed. "It seems to be an attack."

"Marian," Robin whispered. He didn't wait and turned on his heel.

"It is Vaisey! He has hidden himself somewhere here! I knew that he would cause a new problem! This man is so evil! He deserves to die in this horrible place," Much sniveled. "I remember that it was once said that two hundred deadly snakes were let loose in the Christian camp during the Second Crusade. I would love to give Vaisey these poisonous snakes whose sting is death."

"Much! We don't have time!" Robin said dismissively.

Much waved his hand. "Fine. I know I must shut up."

Allan smiled. "It makes perfect sense. Snakes are better than Vaisey's birds in a golden cage – they will bite and poison him, like Lady Davina's snakes did to her."

Robin passed Gisborne's motionless form in the center of the courtyard. Despite huge blood loss, Gisborne wasn't unconscious yet, and his eyes locked with Robin's orbs. Robin distinguished alarm in Guy's eyes. Allan and Much followed Robin, casting a brief glance at Gisborne.

Gisborne heard the scream and recognized Marian's voice. He witnessed how Robin professionally distracted Vaisey and the Black Knights by shooting at them to let the King depart. Suspecting that Vaisey hid and tried to kill the King from his lurking-place, he guessed that Vaisey had aimed at the King but shot Marian. He feared that Marian had been killed by Vaisey. His heart turned over inside his basque, as it always did when she was in danger. He had always wanted to protect her and take care of her. Even now, when he knew about her betrayal and hated her, he didn't want her to die at Vaisey's hand. His hatred for Vaisey flared up in his chest with a new strength.

Robin, Much, and Allan weren't able to see what had exactly happened. The only consolation was that Robin managed to catch a glimpse of Marian on the King's stallion. She was certainly alive as she held King Richard about his waist and sat straight in the saddle. Relief washed over Robin as he realized that Marian's wound had probably been insignificant.

"Master, please calm down. Marian is alive," Much said, looking at Robin's anxious face.

"Mates, she will be alright. If she is wounded, her wound is not mortal. She is in a good shape if she is sitting on the horse," Allan allayed.

Robin nodded slowly. "I hope so."

Allan sighed. "When they arrive in the King's camp, they will take care of her, if she was injured."

Much stared at Robin. "What now?"

"Now I want to kill Vaisey," Robin replied adamantly.

Despite the incident on the road from Imuiz, King Richard and the outlaws continued their way. The King saw what had happened to Marian, but he didn't stop and continued galloping away, in the desert and then to the King's camp. They couldn't risk stopping in the town or in the desert. For the sake of their own safety, their only option was to ride straight to the King's camp.

After the last assault, Robin turned immensely angry. He wanted to spill the enemy's blood. He wanted all the Black Knights dead. His unwillingness to take a human life evaporated. He killed many people in that fight. The shafts of his arrows struck the bodies of numerous Saracen assassins. He felt no remorse: they attacked the King and Marian and didn't deserve mercy. The darkness enveloped him, through his heart to his skin.

He was acutely aware of who and what he was at that moment, understating from his past experience in the Holy Land. In England, the darkness resurrected only once when they were surrounded near the cave by several dozens of Vaisey and Gisborne's guards, thinking that Marian had died at Gisborne's hand after he had stabbed her in the image of the Nightwatchman.

The war awoke a ravening monster in Robin with a bloodlust that might have threatened to consume everyone exposed to it. Appalled because of the catastrophe that the monster could have caused if he had loosed his darkness upon the world, Robin usually controlled himself, which wasn't difficult as he was fed up with pointless killing and sick of the war horrors. However, if he was stalemated and very angry, some mysterious process could have revived the darkness and the blankness into him, resulting in the cataclysmic loss of lives. It had already happened when Robin had been shooting the Saracens. Now he exuded even more darkness and blankness.

A little uncomfortable with what was in his mind, Robin looked at Allan and Much, feeling the yellow bulk of the town's walls around and aware that his friends were watching him. He kept his face expressionless, but his eyes were dark, full of poignant hatred, and weltered deadly venom.

Allan and Much flinched at Robin's exterminatory gaze. Much recognized Robin-Crusader, not peace-loving Robin but bloodthirsty Robin as it was on the Crusade, particularly during the siege and the battle of Acre, Arsuf, and Jaffa. Allan felt as though Robin had been a stranger whom he ever had before, a great warrior blinded with a bloodlust.

Allan was worried. "Robin, are you sure that you want to fight with Vaisey now?"

"I wounded Vaisey in his arm. Now he is vulnerable and an easy prey," Robin replied harshly.

"You don't kill a weak man! You have an innate chivalry," Much intervened.

Robin scoffed. "I feel that it was Vaisey who shot Marian. It means that he is not so vulnerable." He swung around and moved forward, stepping out resolutely on the sand. "If Vaisey is still here, I want to try and finish it here and now."

Slight frown marred Allan's forehead. "We are tired."

Robin gave a slight nod. "I know, Allan, that you are tired. Believe me that I am also exhausted," he said frankly. "Don't forget that we must have a look on Gisborne. If Vaisey fled, he is unlikely to take Gisborne with them. You all heard what he said about him being useless. If he is not dead yet, then he may be useful to us."

"Gisborne is a traitor. He deserves to die on the same spot he fell," Much protested.

Allan was pleased that Robin hadn't forgotten about Gisborne, even though he wasn't naïve to think that Guy would be easily pardoned by the King and live long and happy life. While he served as Guy's right-hand man, he understood that Gisborne wasn't just a black-hearted villain, like he had thought before, when he was tortured by Gisborne. He agreed with Marian that Gisborne had positive qualities and was a tormented soul that needed a right guidance in life.

Allan repented that he had betrayed Robin and the gang for coins and comfort; he knew how terribly it was too feel lonely. He pitied Guy who was alone, without any friends and on the wrong side. He didn't know who shot Guy, assuming that Gisborne had attempted to murder the King and had been shot because of that, most likely by Carter. Allan didn't wish Gisborne's death.

Allan shook his head in agreement. "I agree. We should check Gisborne's condition."

Robin strode forward. Allan and Much shared worried glances and trailed behind Robin. They didn't want to be caught up in Robin's pestilent enthusiasm and hysteria to find Vaisey, but they couldn't leave him alone. They passed through a wending maze of narrow passages between the buildings to the alley and made their way to the deserted courtyard.

Robin paused on the eastern side of the courtyard. He swept his eyes over his surroundings. "Vaisey, come here! Don't be a coward! You again lost today," he said mockingly. His voice took a higher octave. "Vaisey, you couldn't shoot the King in a distance. Too bad for you. What will Prince John say about your new failure?"

Gisborne dragged a deep breath. Hood returned after the King's escape. Was he ready to risk and try to capture Vaisey with only two men, all of them tired and not in the best shape? Hood had cheated death again and feared nothing. The man was either invincible or mad, Guy mused.

Vaisey appeared from the corner of the building. "Hood! You think you won and your King is safe? It is not over! I will have you and your King. With all my heart, I wish your King and you to be dead. Be patient and you will learn about my surprise soon."

"Milord, your aim is not perfect. You should learn to shoot," Robin mocked the Sheriff.

"Vaisey, Robin can teach you," Allan teased.

Much laughed. "He will never shoot like our Robin. No guts no glory."

"Vaisey should pay Robin for his lessons. His talent is not cheap," Allan continued jovially.

Gisborne smiled. He loathed Hood, a stupid idealistic dreamer, but he had never denied that Robin's fighting skills had been awesome, even with sword. He couldn't have imagined that the skinny, small, naughty boy, whom Guy remembered since their childhood, would become a great soldier. He had envied and admired Hood's archery skills since their childhood.

Hereford could no longer tolerate Robin's victory. His blood boiled with rage. "This will be the last day of your life, Locksley. I want to see your pleading eyes before you die."

Robin laughed. "Hope springs eternal, Hereford."

"Death to Hood and the outlaws!" Vaisey ordered to the Saracens who appeared behind him.

The outlaws didn't anticipate that several Saracen assassins survived the fight.

Robin was out of arrows. He drew his sword. "For King Richard! For England!"

"For King Richard! For England!" Much and Allan intoned.

The four Saracens attacked. Their loud war screams created a tumult across the dull landscape. Vaisey, Hereford and Spenser watched. Wounded, Vaisey and Spenser didn't want to fight.

Robin fought with the two men at once – the two Saracen assassins. Dancing around them and lunging with diagonal, corner, and circular blows, he artfully fended off blows from the two Saracens. Despite his tiredness, his sword skills were murderous. He fought with natural grace, dark beauty, and tremendous legerity, outwitting and crushing the Saracens with expert blows.

Before someone could rush to his aid, Robin dispatched the first man with a fast lunge to the heart. He ducked from his other opponent, swung around, and stabbed him through his shoulder. He bent down and thrust the tip of his scimitar into the man's back, then plunged the blade into his flesh and twisted it. The Saracen was dead.

"Look! Hood is so bloodthirsty," Vaisey commented. "He is willing to kill today."

"I am not astounded. He killed many Saracens. People say that he has bloods of thousands of infidels on his hands," Spenser barked.

Vaisey whistled. "Thousands?"

Spenser shrugged his shoulders. "I have heard it many times. The other guards say that Locksley killed so many people that they lost any count after the battle of Messina in Sicily, before they arrived in the Holy Land. I didn't see it myself because I didn't sail from England with King Richard and joined the King's Guard only three years ago."

With an affronted huff, Hereford slapped Vaisey's arm. "My Lord Sheriff, I swear to Christ that Locksley killed very many people during his service to King Richard. I joined the Crusade together with Locksley, and I saw everything with my own eyes. Locksley fought like a possessed man in Messina, Limassol, and the Holy Land. His arrows killed too many Saracens in the battles. It can easily be true that he killed more than a thousand of the heathens. During the battles, he usually took place near his beloved King and methodically fired a hail of arrows into the Saracens, every arrow finding its mark." He sneered. "However, he never killed women and children, helping them be evacuated when the King's armies infiltrated villages and towns."

The Sheriff rewarded the Black Knights with a slight curve of his lips and a look that was both indulgent and amused all at the same time. "Definitely, I underestimated the boy, but he still has no guts to kill women and children."

Robin and the second assassin circled each other, lunging, parrying, and blocking. Robin twirled his scimitar and smirked at his rival. He evaded another blow and swung at the Saracen. The tips of their swords clashed, but Robin didn't attack: he jumped backwards, half turning his body, a tricking gesture to confuse the enemy. Then Robin swung around at lightning speed, jumped forward and skewered the man through his throat. The Saracen fell on his hands and knees, clutching his neck and coughing with blood, then went still.

Spenser picked up his sword and twirled it in his hands, either experimentally or facetiously. "Locksley is deadly with sword, but he is tired."

Hereford chuckled. "This is what I am waiting for."

Vaisey narrowed his eyes. "Will you make me happy and kill Hood, Hereford?"

Hereford smiled. "Maybe."

The third Saracen battled Much with utmost despair and anger. Much lunged and blocked, moved nimbly once more, dancing out of the Saracen's way. Much struck as fast as he could, giving his opponent a snake-quick stab at his chest and smiling as he fell to the ground. The assassin was cursing in Arabic, damning God himself and the Englishmen as pain slashed through him. However, he still had some strength and kicked Much with his legs. Much staggered backwards and fell. As he fell, he hit his head and passed out.

Allan was involved in a fight with the fourth assassin. The man was so skilful that Allan believed he wouldn't win the battle. He lunged and blocked, dancing back and forth. His rival moved easily, casually, out of the way of Allan's long blade. Allan wished to have a light curved scimitar that sliced an enemy more easily than the four-foot-long, two-inch-wide blade of his broadsword.

§§§

As Vaisey realized that the outlaws were a winning side, he sent Spenser to search for horses. Then Spenser appeared in the courtyard with three horses, Vaisey ran to the Arabic stallion.

"It is time to leave," Vaisey commanded, mounting the horse.

Spenser mounted the horse. "I told you that we should have left a while ago."

"I will join you later," Hereford snapped. "Locksley is mine. He dies today."

"What about Gisborne?" Spenser questioned.

"Forget about Gisborne," Vaisey threw over his shoulder, glancing at Guy. "Gizzy, Gizzy, Gizzy! You are fired – I don't need a loser like you. You are a dead man. You will die from your wound, Hood will kill you, or King Richard will execute you." He smiled like a brewer's horse. "Goodbye, my friend Gizzy! You were like a son, but you failed too many times."

Vaisey and Spenser spurred their horses and rode away.

Gisborne felt his heart and his soul shrivel within him. He hated Vaisey with diabolical hatred, with all parts of his heart. "Bloody traitor," he mumbled to himself about Vaisey.

"It is not over, Hood! I will have England!" Sheriff Vaisey bellowed as he turned around the corner and dashed away from the courtyard.

The Earl of Hereford gave a loud way cry and stabbed at Robin. Robin lunged at the Black Knight. Hereford quickly parried the blow and plunged his sword at Robin's head. Robin twisted his body to avoid the blade, and his rival again lunged quickly.

Guy scanned the square and saw the dead bodies lying out there on the sand within his reach. Then there was a sudden scurry of movement in the area. He saw Robin Hood fighting with Hereford. Still fighting with the Saracen, Allan couldn't help Robin. For whatever reason, Robin's manservant lay on the ground.

From occasional glimpses of the fight, Guy concluded that Robin was worn-out, his movements not as swift and adroit as before. Robin made mistakes, and his attention was rather unfocused.

Guy felt as though the ground rocked from side to side underneath him. He hated Hood, but the very idea of Robin's death at the Black Knights' hands brought his heart leaping into his throat in terror. The bright and the most unexpected part of him wished Hood to live, at least not to die at Vaisey's or Hereford's blade. Guy knew that he had committed heinous crimes, but the idea that the Black Knights, who betrayed him, would kill Hood was too much to bear.

Robin paused in their ongoing fight. Hereford also stopped moving, patiently waiting for Robin to start advancing again. Hereford learnt a long time ago that Robin's fighting style was based on unpredictability of his lunges, adroitness of his movements, and a multitude of tricking blows; he paused to wait, collecting himself and observing Robin.

Robin lunged forward, but his opponent was more dexterous. The Black Knight didn't participate in the earlier battles and had an advantage over Robin in terms of physical strength. They circled one another as Robin used circular blows in attacks on Hereford.

Hereford raised his scimitar to make an overhead blow. Robin saw that coming and raised his scimitar, too, high above his head to block the two-handed chop. However, even as he did so, he felt lightheaded from exhaustion and the heat and dropped to one knee.

Trying to rectify the situation, Robin lunged forward, sweeping his blade around in a silver arc to crash it against the older man's knee with sufficient force to bring the Black Knight down. Then Robin pushed himself back and up, in a mighty heave, to regain his feet.

Robin quickly was on his feet and stepped forward, pressing the point of his sword against the other man's neck. "You should have tried harder, Hereford."

Hereford gave a savage roar and spontaneously raised his legs in the air, violently kicking Robin in his knees. Robin stumbled and fell; his sword dropped on the sand, he was disarmed.

Gisborne saw Robin's fall. Grinding his teeth, he moved and crawled on the sands towards one the dead Saracens. He extended his hand and gripped the scimitar that belonged to the assassin.

"Locksley, now you will die," Hereford hissed through clenched teeth. "Beg for my mercy."

Robin grinned struttingly. He would give the enemy no satisfaction of seeing him as submissive. "I will never beg for mercy such a low scum and a wretched traitor as you."

Robin shut his eyes and tried to gather all his strength to overpower the man, but complete exhaustion had already caught him up. He didn't want to die, but he had no strength left, his mind enthralled by a slumber. His heart pounded with breath-stopping fear that he would never see Marian again. His last coherent memory before his death would be Marian's beautiful face.

Robin didn't see that Gisborne was slowly crawling towards them, with great caution, a scimitar flashing in his arm. Narrow red threads formed behind Guy as he was still losing blood.

The Earl of Hereford felt himself being lowered farther as Robin showed his infamous bravery even after his defeat. "Die now, Locksley! Die!"

Hereford raised his sword to make a killing blow at Robin's chest. At the same moment, Guy lunged forward at Hereford's unguarded neck.

Robin opened his eyes and saw Gisborne's pale face screwed up in pain. Hereford convulsed in death throes near him. There was a massive spurt of blood, and then the traitor lay still, face up, blood pooling underneath him, Gisborne's scimitar half-severing Hereford's head from his body.

Robin stared at Gisborne in confusion. The darkness vanished, his bleary gaze brightened. He felt as though he had been having a repellent, lethargic dream, frightening and forcing him to struggle for wakefulness. Tiredness entranced him, numbness filled his essence.

The outlaw lowered his chin and looked at his palms that were in crimson, sticky blood of the treacherous Earl of Hereford. He turned his head and stared at Hereford's body. He didn't regret his death, like all the deaths on the day of their fight in Imuiz.

Robin's entire body was thickly coated with clinging dust and his mouth had felt full of it, devoid of moisture. With pleasure, he spat his mouth clear and then rolled onto his back, staring at the cloudless blue sky and feeling a touch of light breeze blowing from the side against his face.

Robin was alive, thanks to Gisborne, who unexpectedly saved his life. He reflected upon the unlikelihood of the circumstances that had brought him to this point. He wondered if Guy might be thinking the same. Guy saved his life, the voice in the back of his mind said, repeating enigmatic words over and over again.

Robin moved and sat on the sand, staring at Guy. "You saved my life, Gisborne. I owe you."

Guy lay on his back, inches from Robin and Hereford's corpse. He turned to face Robin and involuntary smiled. Robin's pale blue eyes, full of confusion, met Guy's steel blue, filled with pain and betraying no awareness of his true emotions.

Guy grumbled something unclear under his breath. "What is it with Marian?"

"She is fine. They fled the town and must already be in the King's camp," Robin replied. After a courteous, oddly companionable silence, he spoke again. "Why did you save me?"

"I did it not for you, Hood," Gisborne said bluntly. "I did it for her."

Robin was too astonished to speak and kept silent. He cocked his head slightly, his eyebrows rising in curiosity. "For her?" he asked in the end.

"She told me that she loves you. I don't want her to be heartbroken," Guy said truthfully.

Robin went deadly still. Guy's words puzzled him to the core. He was looking at the man in black leather, imperiously and incredulously. The realization dawned upon him that Marian had probably confessed to Gisborne about her love for him. He wondered when she did that. He didn't see the episode of Gisborne's demise, but he guessed that it was Carter who shot Guy to save the King or, perhaps, even Marian. Marian could have told Gisborne about her love for him in Imuiz, he speculated, and the thought scared him.

Judging from Robin's stillness, Guy inferred that Robin was highly puzzled. He felt an extraordinary delight that he had saved Hood's life and talked civilly to him. Robin's silence and his burst of astonishment rejoiced Guy. He enjoyed watching pure disbelief spread across his enemy's features. Hood was always very talkative and loved theatric, spirited speeches, and his current bewilderment and disconcertion amused Guy.

Guy smiled. "Not talking? No more dramatic epigrams for today?"

"No more." Robin shook his head. "I didn't expect you to help me. Thank you."

A low laugher erupted from Guy's throat. "Don't be so self-assured, Hood. I killed that man for Marian and to ruin Vaisey's plans."

"It doesn't matter. I am in debt to you, Gisborne, and I never forget a valuable service," Robin said matter-of-factly, categorically.

Allan had finally won the battle with the annoying Saracen assassin. His last fight was the most difficult in his life. He somehow hit the Saracen into his groin with his legs and then ran him through with the sword. It was the first time when Allan didn't repent that he had killed. Allan even ended up unharmed, but tired beyond any measure.

As he regained consciousness, Much jumped to his feet and swept his eyes over the courtyard. His brows creased into a frown as he saw Guy so close to Robin. He started walking towards Robin. He had only a deep, long scratch on his left forearm, his sleeve soaked with blood.

They survived the battle. Yet, they didn't know that the Black Knights had a dangerous surprise for King Richard. The fight in Imuiz wasn't their last battle in the Holy Land.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the plot._

_The fight in Imuiz is over. I hope you liked the detailed, rich descriptions of the battle._

_Guy of Gisborne saved Robin's life and received a chance for redemption. I was thinking for a long time and decided not to kill him as a villain._

_Next chapter will be about the events in the King's camp. Robin and Guy, as well as Guy and Marian will finally have a candid conversation about the past and the truth._

**_Reviews are always appreciated, including well grounded criticism._**

_If you find any typos and/or mistakes here, please let me know about them in a private message. There might be some typos as I am not a native speaker, although I have been using English since my early childhood._

_Thank you for reading this chapter. Have a lovely weekend._

_Yours faithfully, Amaranthe Athénaïs_


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